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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941562">Just A Soldier</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassWonFP/pseuds/SassWonFP'>SassWonFP</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Army, Becoming an Adult, Canon LGBTQ Character, Crimes &amp; Criminals, Empires - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderfluid Character, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Learning Disabilities, Nonbinary Character, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Universe, Other, Rebellion, Revolution, Thembos, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, clueless, himbos, learning, original - Freeform, soilders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:26:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassWonFP/pseuds/SassWonFP</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"By the time I was no older than 6 rotations, I learned we only obey the Empress.</p><p>    Halfway through my 8th, I saw a man killed.</p><p>The next day I learned I’m supposed to do the same."  </p><p>In a world of Magic, one soilder goes on the journey of a lifetime.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just A Soldier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By day one of my existence, I was formed and placed with my unit.  </p><p>By 3 lunar cycles I had found out that we do not have names. </p><p>By my 1st full rotation, I learned counting time was an oddity in the shadows.</p><p>By the 5th rotation I had my first mission outside. I felt sunlight for the first time.</p><p>By the third moon cycle that year, I could speak our language. </p><p>By the time I was no older than 6 rotations, I learned we only obey the Empress.</p><p>Halfway through my 8th, I saw a man killed.</p><p>The next day I learned I’m supposed to do the same.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The first thing you learn as an Elsmier is that days tend to blur together into a shadowy mush soup. At least, I think that’s what soup is supposed to be like. We don’t eat much food, rather recharge off general energy and the shadows. Time is an uptop-er thing to talk about. I usually base how long it’s been off myself or the moons. Like right now. I’ve been getting bigger, still nowhere near the full size of an adult, and now needing new armor. Time is hard to tell when the base we live in is still. Everyone tends to do what is needed and rest alone when they can. I’m the only one in the armory at the moment and I don’t like being alone. Or loud. I’ve been caught in bad situations starting just like this. So while trying to find my size as quietly and quickly as possible, naturally I got startled by the elder who entered. </p><p>When it walks into the room, its eyes find me and sweep up and down disapprovingly, crimson color glowing from its hood as they take me in. I’m small for elsmier, by my age I should be nearly a head taller. Nobody is certain why I haven't grown to my full height yet, and the ones who do won’t talk to me anyways. The disapproval is not something I'm unused too, so turning back to the racks I finally find my size. I don’t have a lot of words for things, no reason to have complex sentences when nobody talks. But I do know that the room is tight. Something hangs in the air, a crawling feeling that pulls at the shadows that float over me. I fill out my forms and leave with the new armor as soon as I can, not looking back towards the other being in the room. </p><p>I slip soundlessly down the tunnels, navigating back to my quarters and leaving my armor on my stand. No one will care what I’m about to do, but I still try to be stealthy as I walk through the endless loops of corridors and underground hallways. Getting lost in thought is difficult when I don’t have much to think about. I turn one after the next, slowly making my way to my destination, thinking mindlessly. Small things pass through my head, a yellow butterfly I saw, a fond black cat, bloody broken glass. Little moments from my recent missions. I continue on, my mild eclectic mix of memories, and the familiar route imprinted onto my feet. After the seemingly aimless wander I arrive at the pond. </p><p>I’ve heard the word before, it’s for a gathering of liquid. My little pond is only about 15 paces long and only comes up to my calves in the center. The pond is nice, the cool liquid is a change from the dry packed soil of our base. Everytime I look down at it, a shadowy wisp looks up at me, and I've always tried to greet it and be polite, but I only hear myself in the small cavern.  One day, I hope to understand their silent words. Until then, I describe the little things I noticed on my  missions, what I’ve done in my day, or sit in the pleasant quiet of mute company. When that is not enough, I dip my hands under the surface and watch the shadows we are made of slowly peel away down to frail looking things, leathery black skin stretched thinly over bones. When I pull my hands back out, I get to watch them for only a few moments before the shadows come back into place, wrapping my hands up like bandages. </p><p>Today is no different, I sit by the pond, spending a few more drips of time before I have to leave. And I do. Last moonrise I was assigned a new mission, one with a small unit. We’re supposed to go out and check in on suspicious activity reported from Mullbrook, a small town on the outskirts of the Darkshade forest. Something or other happened, a shifty neighbor, some kids crying about one thing or the next. There are thousands of reports like this everyday. Doesn’t mean they’re worthwhile or fun. I’ve always wanted to go out on real missions, ones with hunting down hybrids and criminals. All the stories we have come from those. </p><p> <i>Maybe one day I can take somebody to Darklock</i>, I mused, nodding once more to the wispy pond creature, standing up to leave. I had only a few minutes before nightfall, based on the temperature. </p><p>Footfalls echoing quietly, I wonder if the up-top has changed. It had only been a moon cycle or two since I was last out, but so much can happen in that time. Besides, the lights we judge moon cycles on are untrustworthy, turning on and off at random points, the magic is old and decaying. For all I know it could have been an entire rotation since I last left. I don't believe so however, I would know after that much time, would have started talking to myself after that long. Stopping by my quarters quickly to grab the new armor, I put them on and head back out. We’re traveling far this time, 13 or more leagues between us and Mullbrook. The good thing is that we get rides this time. Keeping that in mind I head towards the stables, looking around for my teammates. </p><p>When I am no more than several paces away, I pick up low voices coming from the stable rooms.<br/>
    “-got stuck with pipsqueak again.” the first voice starts, muttering the words out harshly. </p><p>My ears twitch, straining to hear the next, much quieter voice whisper “T’mre, the little one is not bad.” <i>T’mre</i>, I think, remembering the few elsmier who use names. <i>A tall broad elsmier comes to mind, stormy brooding eyes glowing fiercely as they bore into the back of my head, rough hands shoving me into a wall-</i> I shake my head slightly, stopping that memory from continuing and focus back onto the conversation. </p><p>“I hate that runt, too stupid.” T’mre’s voice grumbles out. “Something has to be wrong with ‘em.” </p><p>I run cold, breath slowing down to a deathly pace, making every effort to not mistake what is being said. </p><p>“Everyone knows that, too small, too quiet, an odd one. But we have a mission. It comes first T’mre.” the softer voice replies, indistinct rustling following its words. </p><p>The world gets fuzzy after that, I’m not too certain what was said next or by who, my mind wrapping a thick layer of cotton around me and closing me off from everything for a few minutes. It’s not uncomfortable, but it makes me feel far, like I am leagues away from my body and mind. I enter the stables regardless, the thick cotton-y feeling with my senses and mind makes me more fearless, makes it easier to cut off the conversation as I head over to one of the rides. I don’t know what this is, a floating sensation, leaving me wondering if my boots are even filled with my feet, or if it’s really me walking towards the creature. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, it lasts hours, moonrises, and once, 4 moon cycles. That doesn’t mean I like it. Or want it. But I have things to do, so I shuffle forward and run a hand down the animal’s side. </p><p>The creatures we ride are similar to us, a darkness loving animal. A wispy haze surrounds them, surface cool to the touch. I once overheard an up-topper mention it looking something like a horse, but I don’t know what those are, so I don’t know how true that is. They’re nice animals though, scary fast, leagues blur away before I even realise it. It’s the best thing in the world riding one of them. Slowly pulling everything down off the racks and getting my ride ready, my haze stopping me from noting what the others are doing. Eventually though, I have nothing left to do, so I leap up into the saddle, hooking my boots into place and checking my things. Casting a glance out I finally took in the other two elsmier, both their eyes staring at me.<br/>
T’mre is just how I remember, tall and older than me, the broad shoulders and thick armor making it look bigger than yestermoon. T’mre’s eyes are a cold grey, an unusual color amongst elsmier, hence the name T’mre. <i>Blessed One.</i> I remember when I found out some of us get names. I was only two rotations old, crying out for a name of my own. I never got one, but others have tried. <i>Pipsqueak, Runt,</i> and the worst, <i>Fa’el</i>- or Wrong. I don’t get called that much, but I always have little points of pain run over my body with a roll. T’mre calls me Fa’el. T’mre calls me all of those names. I don’t like T’mre much. </p><p>A motion to the right catches my eye and I look at the last of the team, a slim towering elsmier. So tall, it is at eye level with me even on the animal and saddle. It’s eyes are the simple red, but that is not what draws my attention. A bright spotless yellow ribbon encircles its neck, a symbol of respect. <i>Someone who met the Empress is on one of these missions?</i> I think, confused and alarmed. <i>Something important must be happening. There is no reason for it to be here if this was another regular mission.</i> I wonder quietly, twisting in my saddle to grab the reins and focus on something else. Something off pulls at the base of my neck, stuck in my throat as I try to breathe evenly.</p><p>“Hullo,” the soft voice from earlier calls out, looking up I see that it is the tall one speaking. “We’re ready, let’s head out.” it motions to the exit and their prepared rides. </p><p>I nod, looking towards the exit. The only thing marking it different is the small cool current of air that fills up the room, snaking across the floor and coiling up around my legs. Tightening my grip on the reins, I do one last once over before looking back up to find the tall one looking down at me from atop its animal. I gulp, trying to push the thing down in my throat, but failing. </p><p>“T’mre will be in front, you will take back.” it murmurs, motioning to T’mre with a nod of its head. “I will be in the middle. Stay in formation.”</p><p>I nodded quickly, scared to disappoint someone so important. With a motion of its hand, the doors were pulled open by one of the stablehands. T’mre shoots out and into the tunnel the moment they are wide enough for it. The tall one follows, and so do I, a hesitant pause afterwards keeping me just far enough from them. The tunnel that leads to the uptop is steep, the ground smooth and hard to walk on. The animals we ride have no issue, finding places to stomp and climb their way out and up. In no time at all the transition from dark earth and slow air to the uptop comes without warning. We burst out to a flash of light, and I squeeze my eyes tight to avoid the painful glare. When I open them back up, it’s hard to not stop and spend a few moments looking. </p><p>There is so much color up-top. In the base, most everything is a simple black or a dark colorless thing, only our eyes stand out. But up-top shares all of the color. Greens of all color blur past me, spots of yellows, purples and some colors I don’t even know show up as well. I keep my pace, but I can’t stop myself from trying to look at everything all at once. A small fuzzy animal running past us, a strange twisty plant, something bright red. There is so much to see up-top. It is not all though. Up-top has a fullness to the air, and it moves so much. Something about breathing it in makes my lungs feel better, like I hadn’t breathed the entire time I was underground. The smell is nice too, a soft thing that makes my sharp teeth clack together as my skin pulls back around my mouth. There is something magical about up-top, it is so different from the base. </p><p>I focus back onto the two infront of me, watching how far I am from them. It is past nightfall, but there is plenty of light to see where we are. That is something too about the up-top. It is bright. Brighter than the base, brighter than anywhere I’ve ever been. It is bright at night, and when the sun is out, everything seems to glow a few colors lighter. It reminds me of when I dip my hands into the pond, the shadows that pull away from by hands are pulled away by the sun up-top. <i>It is very, very great to come back up,</i> I muse, clacking my teeth together again with a huff. I closed the small distance between us, and the tall one’s cloak was stretched out so far I could touch it if I leaned forward with my arm out. I wouldn’t dare though. I’m too unimportant, not on the same level of either T’mre or the tall Ribbon Wearer. </p><p>A few more leagues pass and we slow to a stop. T’mre pulls the reins hard, the animal crying out in pain at the harsh motion. We reached the edge of the town, street lights glow high up, making it feel almost like the sun was out. Mullbrook is a large oddly spaced out town, each building a random amount of paces from the next. It gets tighter towards the center, the spaces becoming more even, the buildings closer to each other. I am small next to all of them, but so is T’mre and even the tall Ribbon Wearer. We slack the reins only a little, letting our rides slowly pull us through the town and closer to the center. The few people on the streets look at us for only a moment before quickening their pace and leaving. It is a different thing to T’mre and the elder’s disappointment in me. It is hot, and leaves me feeling like I very much am Fa’el. I am alone in this though, the others unbothered by the people’s gazes. </p><p>When we reach the center, Ribbon Wearer holds up a hand and we stop. It hops down from the animal’s back smoothly, fixing the saddle immediately. I watch closely as Ribbon Wearer walks over to a building, hitting the door three times with the back of it’s hand, making a very loud sound. There is a moment of silence before the door opens and a short pudgy man is shown. His pale yellow colored skin and curling horns stand out against Ribbon Wearer. <i>A Proq</i>, I note, looking down to find the well known hooves and fur covered legs of a Proq. Ribbon Wearer speaks louder than normal, using the strange up-top language. I only understand a few words, ours having shared a few with some of the up-top language. Ribbon Wearer speaks of the reports, asking about what the people looked like. The Proq replies sharply, and something hot rises in me, my eyes narrowing at him. <i>That is a Ribbon Wearer, more important than you and me combined, stag</i>. My thoughts are unheard, and their conversation continues on. </p><p>When they are done, Ribbon wearer turns back towards me and T’mre, the Proq pulling the door shut with a bang, the air fluttering Ribbon Wearer’s cloak. I do not need to speak, for T’mre mutters what I am thinking. </p><p>“Disrespectful stag.” </p><p>Ribbon Wearer narrows its eyes, stepping up to us and standing straight, reaching for T’mre’s shoulder. T’mre has to look up and when they make eye contact, Ribbon Wearer’s hand hits T’mre’s face sharply, a loud smack filling the air. My eyes widen as Ribbon Wearer says something fast and low to T’mre.</p><p>“We are not to say words as degrading as that, T’mre.” I shrank back in my seat, not knowing that I had thought something just as bad. </p><p>T’mre’s argument died and hung its head low, looking away. Ribbon wearer let go of T’mre’s shoulders, stepping back and looking me in the eyes. </p><p>“Come, follow me.” it spoke, looking straight at me. </p><p>I lower my gaze, nodding as I grab a hold of the reins again, my clawed hands dig deep into the palms of my hands and I feel something wet coat the reins. I feel bad, like a layer of air has been added underneath my skin, leaving me shivering as I twist in my saddle. Ribbon Wearer climbs back onto its saddle, leading us away from the Proq’s house and to a different section of the town. The place we arrive at is darker than the rest of the town, less streetlights to remove the shadows of the night, but my eyes have no issue finding the crowd of people. They’re all murmuring to each other, the strange up-top language spoken easily between all of them. I understand none of their words, but when we move closer, I can understand what they are talking about. </p><p>A woman lies dead in the center of the pavement. There is blood surrounding her body, and her clothes are slowly turning the same color. I can’t see any weapons on her or any signs of fights, so I am left confused and looking at Ribbon Wearer for answers. Ribbon Wearers face is pulled tightly towards the center, and my face copies it when I glance back over at the woman. The part of town we’re in is filled with tall buildings made of one stone, all with the same face. There are thin iron ledges sticking out, and the sides have a staircase going down left and right between each ledge. Doors painted the same red as the woman’s blood are open and light shines from behind the windows and open doorways. There are people everywhere, up-toppers staring down from the ledges, down on the stone covered ground, the crowd in front of us. I do not know how this many can be in the same place at once. I want to look at Ribbon Wearer, but a slap on my leg stops me.</p><p>I look down to see an angry looking woman. Her black eyes are narrowed up at me, and her face is pulled together like Ribbon Wearer’s was before. She says something sharply to me, words I cannot understand, and the others around her look towards us. Each person’s face copies the woman’s, making me feel the same way T’mre does when he calls me Fa’el. I do not know all of their species, but their voices all match, each one yelling out words that I do not know. Ribbon Wearer and T’mre look out over the crowds, a hot look on their faces, and a growl leaves T’mre when another person grabs onto its cloak and pulls hard. T’mre turns towards the man who pulled it, and the noise he lets out makes pain roll over me. </p><p><i>I am small, T’mre is so much bigger than me, a hot breath falls on my face, and I whimper in fear. T’mre is harsh, shoving me around the room. I cry for someone, but-</i> I push my memories away, focusing back on the problem. Ribbon Wearer is speaking now, shouting over the noise of all the up-toppers, saying things I only understand in bits. The crowd does not quiet down, and T’mre only gets hotter with its growls, our rides starting to make soft noises like they are in pain. I tug on my reins, shifting in my seat, not knowing where to begin. I look to Ribbon Wearer who has stopped shouting, but the crowd has not quieted from their last volume. Ribbon Wearer huffs, and slides off its saddle, standing down amongst the crowd. </p><p> When Ribbon Wearer stands straight, everyone in the crowd is a head or two smaller, and they all have to look up to meet Ribbon Wearer’s eyes. The crowd falls silent, and the loss of their noise surprises me. I look to where the woman’s body lies, and back to Ribbon Wearer, waiting for an answer. No one answers me, and they all continue on with their strange words. I meet T’mre’s eyes, the grey color not changing when our eyes meet. I don’t know what to do, and nobody is telling me where to go. The cotton from before wraps around me again when the crowd begins to yell again. My hands feel empty, and I am worried that I fell off my ride. There is no sound, and the nice colors of the up-top blur away to look like the base walls.</p><p>Something sharp pushes its way into my leg, and I look down, confused at what it could be. When I see the sharp metal in my leg, panic tries to come up, but my haze keeps me away from the pain. I hear Ribbon Wearer and T’mre shout, hot harsh words are yelled at the crowd. Somebody gets shoved, and there are fists hitting other people. I don’t know what is happening. But it is loud, and I am scared. The dead woman is ignored, and her eyes stare at me with nothing behind them. Someone is screaming to my left, it's a sharp sound, like metal being torn. I look to find the source, searching the crowd of shouting people for them. A young girl, no older than 7 rotations is screaming her heart out, shaking hard at the edge of the crowd. Something in me tells me to go to her, it pulls me off my saddle, and past the hands of the people. Everyone is pushing me backwards, I get thrown left and right by the group. They are all screaming and shouting words I do not know, everything passes me and I hear none of it. </p><p>I reach the little girl. She does not see me. Her screaming continues on even when I crouch before her. It’s not the first time I do not know what to do, but it is not a problem to me now. Her eyes are squeezed shut, mouth wide open, still letting out the near painful scream. I’m hesitant, but I gently set a hand on her arm. Her eyes snap open, and her scream finally ends. I opened my own mouth, wondering if I should even try to speak to her. The same thing from before pulls the words from me before I can stop.</p><p>“Hey there.” I speak softly, not knowing if she heard me over the shouting. “What is wrong?” I ask, not knowing what to say, but that something should be said.</p><p>She sniffles, the corners of her mouth twist down, and she mumbles out a response I only partly understand. Somebody died, and everyone is now doing something. I don’t understand the new words she used, but her eyes begin letting out drips of liquid fall down her face. </p><p>I repeat her words, trying to make the same sounds, “Muthir died, everyone maed?” I say each word slowly, and the little girl nods again, eyes not stopping. “Who is Muthir?” I ask, the word coming out a little easier this time. </p><p>The girl points to the dead woman in the middle, her eyes with nothing there still staring at me. <i>Muthir.</i> I nod at the girl. <i>Muthir is the woman’s name. I guess.</i> </p><p>The little girl’s nose starts to drip as well, her nod responding to my own. In moments like these, I want to know the up-top language. I could speak with more words, ask things I do not know. But I am stuck. Not able to talk to even a child.  I pat the girl’s arm again, and she reaches up to hold onto my hand. Her hand is so very warm, and small in my own. For once, I am so much bigger than somebody else. She looks confused, eyes staring up at my own. I notice how odd she looks. Her ears are round and small, skin a pale faint brown. Long brown hair falls past her shoulders, and I am left wondering what she is. Before I can do much else, a hand lands heavily on my own shoulder, and the little girls face turns fearful. </p><p>I look up and see T’mre far above me. I understand the little girl’s fear, something in me copies her lightly when I see T’mre. Ribbon Wearer appears behind T’mre, and I look around to see that the crowd has stopped. All of their eyes are on us, the noise from before is gone, I did not notice when it left. The pain in my side is burning now, and I look down to see a pond of black purple liquid has gathered under my leg. Ribbon Wearer looks worried, and glances between me and the child, brow pulled together tightly. T’mre has not let go of my shoulder, tightening its grip instead, almost painful. </p><p>“You are hurt,” Ribbon Wearer starts, speaking softly as hands find the broken dagger in my leg. “You need help.” </p><p>T’mre huffs, gripping roughly on my shoulder and grumbling out “No, pipsqueak will be fine, made it this far anyways.” Faintly, I nod along, looking back at the girl. </p><p>She looks scared, but there is another thing that burns in her eyes. A heat, but it is cold. <i>Mad,</i> I think back to the word she said, remembering how she said the crowd was mad. I do not know what I did to make her mad, but I let go of her arm quickly, looking away and up towards Ribbon Wearer. Before I can say anything, a sharp pain comes from my leg as Ribbon Wearer pulls the metal out of me. When it is gone, my leg is empty, a soft throb of pain turns on and off. I stand shakily, T’mre finally lets go and steps away, but it leaves me with nothing to balance myself on. Ribbon Wearer and T’mre turn to the dead woman on the ground, and I am slow to catch up to what they are doing. The crowd is shouting, but I turn away, and make my way towards the others. They are kneeling down by the dead woman’s side, T’mre inspecting her body.</p><p>“Suicide.” Ribbon wearer says softly, and I do not know what it means. “She must have thrown herself from the balcony” it continues, pointing up to the ledges- <i>balcony.</i></p><p>“What is ‘suicide’” I ask, kneeling down on the other side of her, getting a closer look at her face. Ribbon Wearer looks up at me sharply, motioning with its hands downwards, the eye contact is too much and I look away. I keep my eyes on the woman, there is a shine to her face under her eyes, some sort of wetness. Her skin and features are similar to the little girl, <i>The same species,</i> I think comparing the two. </p><p>“Suicide,” T’mre repeats Ribbon Wearer, voice rough in comparison. “Suicide is when one dies at their own hands.” My eyes widen and T’mre continues, face twisting into sharp lines and rough edges. “It is the most shameful thing anyone could do.” </p><p>I stare down at the woman, confused at why she did this. “Why did Muthir do that?” I ask, looking back up at Ribbon Wearer. Both Ribbon Wearer and T’mre look surprised and confused at my words, and they shared a glance with each other before turning back to me.</p><p>Ribbon Wearer begins to speak before T’mre cuts it off, “She is not your mother, we do not have mothers, pipsqueak.” Ribbon Wearer nods, looking back at me. I do not understand, and I must show it, because Ribbon Wearer continues, “Mothers are the people who,” something twists Ribbon Wearer’s brow, “people who created their children.” a pause. “They are mother.”</p><p>I do not understand, I don’t think I ever will understand what Mother is. But as I look down at the woman, I think a part of me fell inside when I added the new word to my list. I look back up to speak to the others, something pulling at the corners of my mouth. But, A flash of movement in the corner of my eye makes me pause and focus on something behind the others. The fabric behind one of the windows was moving slowly, and the light was darker now, almost gone. The door next to it is shut tightly, and I look back at the others, motioning with my head towards the area. T’mre twists around quickly, looking straight at the spot with narrowed eyes. Ribbon Wearer follows, taking a step forward. I pause, looking back at the woman next to me, her body is already cold, and her eyes stare blankly at something far away. I follow their gaze and meet the eyes of the little girl. She is mad, and liquid is falling down her face at a fast rate. I stand, stumbling back a step and turning away from the two.</p><p>The others have begun to make their way towards the place I pointed out, and I am quick to follow. I reach their side and continue climbing the steps up towards the room. When we reach the room’s balcony, the up-toppers all move back behind the doors, closing quickly with loud bangs. The fabric behind windows moves and shifts, and there is murmuring that begins when we pass and ends when we are far away. When we reach the last door, the one I had shown to the others, Ribbon Wearer steps forward and knocks on the red door, face flat. There is no response for many breaths, and my ears strain to hear any movement inside the building. After we had been waiting long enough for the moon to move, I heard a noise from inside. A small creek. I know the others heard it as well because T’mre tightened its shoulders and Ribbon Wearer stood a little taller.</p><p>Three sharp knocks on the door is what Ribbon Wearer starts with, and no longer than a few breaths, T’mre knocks much louder on the door. The frame shakes a little with his knocking, and I hear somebody inside whimper. With each one of T’mre’s hits, I shrink back shoulders pulling in tight and leaning back from it. T’mre only gets louder, and I see little puffs of dirt start to pump out after every hit. I am slowly backing away, but Ribbon Wearer lets T’mre continue. Up-toppers from other places are beginning to open their doors, watching what is happening. I don’t know who is behind the door, and I cannot hear anything from within because of T’mre. I’m straining my ears for any little noise, my eyes are closed tight and I try to hear what is behind T’mre’s sounds. I almost don’t catch it, but I run forward, pushing into Ribbon Wearer and T’mre, moving them away from the door. T’mre’s growl cuts off as they both see what I reacted too.</p><p>An explosion of light forces its way out of the door, pushing me and the others flat with a wave of heat following us. I turn around and catch only a glance at the person and our eyes meet. She is a tall thin creature with stripes of green and white over her arms and legs, and everything else is a blur as she throws herself over the rails. I run to catch her but there is no need, somehow she lands safely and begins sprinting towards the forest. I don’t pause, something in me pushes me forward, and I am leaping after her, watching the ground come up to me quickly. I roll when I land, and shoot out after her, not thinking about anything but the woman running in front of me. I don’t know where she is going but I am sprinting, my boots are pushing me farther and farther with each step but somehow I never get closer. She stops. I crash into her. It’s a mess of limbs and claws as we roll across the ground in a loud rustle of noise.</p><p>When we end, I am twisted around the girl, one arm around a leg, and the other is over her torso. I cannot see her face but I can feel her claws dug into my cloak, and something is pushed up against my stomach. We’re only there for a few moments, and I try to understand what is happening. But she moves right away, pulling out from under me and standing up tall in one movement. I roll onto my back and look up at her, not quite sure what to do. I don’t like being on my back so I move quickly, pulling myself up so that I stand only a few paces away from her. We stare at one another, so still I feel air moving my cloak behind me. I can look at her in full now, and I pause, watching the other.</p><p>She, is not a she. He is so thin and wavy that in the moments of running and jumping I could not tell that he was not a girl after all. His arms are striped with bright green and white lines, and they stop at his shoulders, and the rest of his skin is a light green color. I do not know if the stripes stop similarly on his legs, because the only clothing he is wearing is a small short sort of pants. I look back up to his face to see he is watching me too, and we both seem to slow our breaths and stand a little straighter. I notice that we are alone, Ribbon Wearer an T’mre are nowhere to be seen, and I cannot hear the town. I was so focused on catching him, I failed to see that I left everyone behind. A voice makes me look back to the other, and I am confused because- because I understood him.</p><p>“What do you want?” He asks, in my language, but there is something in his voice, a sort of drag that pulls at the words, makes the A’s a little to long, and the U’s too short. But I understand him. He speaks my language, and I know what he is saying.</p><p>“Want?” I ask slowly, not certain what the word means, but his tone is enough for me to be hesitant.</p><p>“Why did you follow me?” He asks again, holding out his clawed hands, ready for a fight. “What do you want.” He says rougher this time, lowering his weight and watching me with sharp eyes.</p><p>“Why did you run?” I ask, not knowing how to reply, but I feel my own body start to slowly move into a fight ready position. But there is no need, he pauses, and looks at me with a strange pull of his face. Standing straight, he looks at me for a long time, and I pull myself out of the fight stance, holding my breath for a response.</p><p>“Weird.” he says, just one word, but it is not bad. I don’t know what he means, and I am left without a response for him. “You’re an odd one, Y’know that?” He speaks with a slide of his tongue, and it takes me longer to understand him than others. “Askin’ me why I ran.”</p><p>“Do you know what happened to that woman?” I continue, taking a step towards the boy. “Who is she, why did she die?”</p><p>The boy narrows his eyes at me, shoulders going hard as he replies, “That crazy woman was one issue after the next. She was always rambling on about <i>something</i> or other, and her kid was so weird.” He spits something onto the ground, before looking back up at me and saying “I’m glad she died.”</p><p>I run cold, something in his eyes makes me think of T’mre. I don’t know what to say, but I don’t have to. Ribbon Wearer and T’mre have caught up to us, and the boys eyes widen. He shouts out something in the up-top language, and T’mre growls. Ribbon Wearer and the boy talk back and forth, and T’mre only growls louder. T’mre tries to take a step forward and Ribbon Wearer holds it back, the boy shouting now. I don’t know why he’s speaking in the up-top language, but I don’t try to follow the conversation. Ribbon Wearer is speaking slowly, and the boy is fast, nearly screaming. It continues until T’mre lunges forward, pushing past Ribbon Wearer’s arm, claws reaching for him. The boy stepped back quickly, but T’mre is faster, and yellow blood hits my face. T’mre’s hand is dripping with the boy’s blood, and Ribbon Wearer runs to his side.</p><p>“Why would you do that!” Ribbon Wearer shouts at T’mre, voice loud and rough. “He is just a child!” </p><p>T’mre’s breathing slows, and the tightness in its shoulders leaves. “He-” T’mre starts, looking between Ribbon Wearer and the boy quickly. “He was insulting you.”</p><p>“I do not care for such trivial things!” Ribbon Wearer shouts again, “Thanks to you the town will think we murdered this boy for no reason!” Ribbon Wearer’s voice is harsh, and the boy is gripping tightly onto the cloak next to him.</p><p>The claw marks across his chest are bleeding quickly, only surface deep, but he is hurt. “S’calla, I-” T’mre tries, but Ribbon Wearer- <i>S’calla</i> looks away, picking up the boy. <i>S’calla,</i> I watch. <i>Important.</i></p><p>“Come, we must take him to town” S’calla says to me, not looking at T’mre, the blood of the boy covers S’calla’s chest plate. I wait, for only a moment. I watch T’mre as we leave, the blood still dripping off his claws. We walk away, and T’mre stands alone in a pond of the boy’s blood.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hola Ah-me-goes,<br/>Some of you have read this, others have heard of it- the rest probably don't even fuckin know who I am.<br/>Anyways- this trash pile is my work in progress book, updates are. Going to vary in time because lets be honest I don't write for weeks at a time and then pump out a whole chapter outta nowhere.</p><p>Enjoy, feel free to yell at me in the comments about whatever, tell me if its shit or there's errors, I don't mind. </p><p>(All my social media accounts are sasswonfp or SassWon FP)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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